


Got You Pegged

by MissDavis



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dildos, Multi, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pegging, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:29:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9206795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDavis/pseuds/MissDavis
Summary: Sherlock could think of six different ways they could make it fit using common household items he had in the flat, but he didn't think he could wait that long.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this months ago and found it very cathartic to finish it this week.

Sherlock was already naked and splayed out on his back on the bed when they realized the dildo was too big for the harness. He could think of six different ways they could make it fit using common household items he had in the flat, but he didn't think he could wait that long. "Forget the harness. Just shove it in with your hands."

Mary turned the giant purple cock she held, examining it. The fingers of one hand did not reach all the way around. "It's got a suction cup. I think you're meant to use it in the shower."

Next to him on the bed, John chuckled, and Sherlock let his head fall back against the pillows and pumped his hips up and down once. "No. Please. Just stick it in me. Please." He never said please, especially not to women, especially not in bed. Mary was different. Mary was holding a silicone cock that was as thick as her forearm.

"All right." She slid off the foot of the bed and stretched to grab the bottle of lubricant from the top of his chest of drawers, the sheer skirt of the lacy black negligee she wore hiking up as she moved. "John, check to make sure he's ready for this. I don't want to hurt him any more than necessary."

Sherlock tensed and then wriggled his whole body in anticipation, feeling the sheets beneath his bare skin shift atop the plush mattress. Mary was going to hurt him, but only as much as he wanted her to. And he wanted her to. He liked it when John hurt him, too, but John tended to get upset and reluctant and have second thoughts and want to discuss it first. Mary just did what he asked, and getting her off in return was not as much of a hardship as he'd expected at first.

John elbowed him in the ribs and asked, "You ready?" his voice rough and teasing. Sherlock nodded, and watched John's body flex and stretch, pulling the cotton of his underwear tight as he crawled down the bed and situated himself between Sherlock's knees. Sherlock spread his legs wider and lifted his hips so John could see the tip of the plug protruding. 

"Ah, he used the biggest one. I think he's ready." John ran one finger lightly across Sherlock's arse and then flicked at the plug. Sherlock moaned at the sensation, knowing it was only a tiny taste of what was to come. 

Mary turned back to the bed, smearing lube over the head of the giant dildo. "That plug is not nearly as big as this. Get it out."

"Mm." Instead of taking it out, John bent forward and slipped his left index finger in next to it. His finger was dry and his skin caught a bit, but Sherlock was slick enough from the lube he'd used when he put the plug in that the friction was more welcome than painful.

"Oh." Mary exhaled softly and climbed onto the bed next to John. She was still wearing the leather harness that had been meant to hold the dildo, doubtless because she intended to use the little pouch that held her bullet vibrator. Sherlock found the straps and buckles of the harness far sexier than the soft lace of her lingerie. "Give him a little twist, open him up a little more."

John turned his head, gave Mary a quick kiss and then bent his finger inside Sherlock, pushing the plug back so he could brush over his prostate. Sherlock flinched and then rocked against the pressure of John's hand. "Hurry up." He knew he wasn't yet stretched as wide as the dildo's head, but it was close enough. 

They didn't hurry, either one of them. They took their time, John teasing Sherlock with the thick plug while Mary sat next to him and stroked the dildo as if it were a part of her anatomy she could actually feel. Sherlock let himself enjoy being caught between the tension of waiting and the luxury of John's touch. 

Mary broke first. "My turn," she said, and gave John a light push on the shoulder. 

Sherlock squirmed at the loss of contact when John pulled the plug out of him, but John just swept a rough hand up over Sherlock's scrotum and moved out of her way. He dropped the plug onto the floor and then stretched out on his side on the bed next to Sherlock. "I'm just going to watch," he said.

Sherlock turned his face toward John, and then Mary knelt between his knees and the half-formed idea he'd had of kissing John evaporated when she said, "All right, Sherlock, I don't care if you're ready or not, I'm going to peg you now."

Sherlock grunted and looked up at her. "I'm ready, though it can hardly be called pegging if you're not wearing the harness."

"I am wearing the harness." 

"Yes, but there's nothing in the harness, now, is there? You're not pegging me. You're just fucking me. I'm ready."

"Oh my God." She sat back on her heels, brandishing the penis stand-in as if it were a weapon, though a gun did look a bit more natural in her hands. "You claim to never have had sex at all until the two of us, and now you're correcting my terminology?"

"I think we should all strive to be as precise as possible in our language use, don't you agree?" He raised an eyebrow at her and then reached for a pillow to shove under himself to give her a better angle for access. Next to him, he felt John tense, anticipating a fight. Honestly. He should realize by now that their bickering in bed was not likely to lead to anything other than a mutually satisfying orgasmic experience. 

Mary pressed the dildo between his cheeks and Sherlock let out a long, low groan, only slightly exaggerated. He never tired of seeing the effect his voice had on both John and Mary. John shifted on the bed next to him, squirming closer to press his pelvis up against Sherlock's outstretched thigh. Sherlock could feel him through his boxers, a warm counterpoint to the coolness of the silicone between his legs.

He let himself sink into the mattress as Mary began to work him open even wider. His instinct was to urge her to go faster, to rush the actions and sensations that would lead to climax, but he knew that her slow, steady method would ultimately bring a more intense and satisfying high. It took him only a few moments to direct his body to enjoy what it was feeling rather than simply craving more; when he relaxed and allowed all of his senses to gather and share input, the gratification increased even further. The pressure and movement of the dildo against him was incredible, but there were innumerable smaller pleasures as well. 

Five fabrics he could feel: pillowcase and sheet, both smooth as satin; John's worn vest, the softest cotton, and his pants, newer and more coarse; Mary's negligee, the lace both rough and silky where it rubbed between Sherlock's thighs. Temperature: heat from John on his left and Mary between his legs, cool air enveloping the right half of his body and his feet—he wriggled his toes to hide them beneath the sheets that had been pushed to the bottom of the bed. The slick of the lubricant inside and out, and a streak of it along his inner thigh where Mary had rested her hand. More wetness, just a spot, against his hip where John was languidly rutting against him. 

And beyond the physical, the mental joys: pride in his own self-discipline as he forced himself to patience and let Mary set the pace. Trust that even as he gave himself to her at his most physically vulnerable, she wouldn't hurt him beyond what he requested. And through it all, John, whispering adoring praise and encouragement as Mary opened him wider.

"Almost there, Sherlock," Mary said. She stroked her free hand along his upraised knee and he shivered, then forced himself to relax and accept even more. Mary gave a final nudge and the dildo was in him, just the head, the size of a small fist, but once that was in the rest of it followed easily, bringing a shuddering pleasure as she began to move it within him.

He heard himself make a sound, and then John was there, sprawled across Sherlock's chest, mouth open. Sherlock meant to turn his head away—kissing was foreplay, and they were past that. But John pressed his lips and then his tongue against Sherlock's and Sherlock gasped at how much it added to what he was already feeling. 

"Mm, yeah, okay." John pulled his mouth away and Sherlock had to restrain himself from chasing after him. "Done watching." He pushed off his pants and knelt up to straddle Sherlock's stomach.

Mary stopped moving but kept the dildo in place. "Oh, John." 

John reached down between his own legs. "Had to use the medium-size, someone had taken the big one." He grimaced for a moment and then tossed the plug he'd had in him onto the floor.

"How long did you have that in?" Sherlock had been too wrapped up in himself to notice—of course that was why John hadn't undressed fully before now.

"I nicked it from the cabinet when I used the loo before dinner." 

Sherlock stretched beneath him, feeling the dildo shift inside him even though Mary had stilled. "I had mine in since you texted to say you were coming over."

John growled. "Always have to one-up me, don't you?" He picked up the bottle Mary had used earlier and squirted lubricant into his own hand. "The medium plug was big enough. So now you can go ahead and put your medium-size cock in me, hmm?"

"Maybe I won't. Maybe you can just wait for someone bigger to come along instead." Sherlock tried to keep his voice level but Mary chose that moment to start moving again, thrusting the dildo deeper into him.

"You both have huge cocks," she said. "Not as big as this one but huge. Now come on and fuck each other already so I can turn on my vibrator." 

John put his hand on Sherlock's ready cock and stroked down, spreading lube as he went . Sherlock wrapped his fingers around John's thighs, which were taut with the effort of holding himself above him. "Now," he said, and rocked up so their bodies made contact. John's eyes fluttered closed for a moment, and then he sank down in one smooth motion—he was so good at that, so good at...ahhhh. 

Sherlock's thoughts derailed and he made no attempt to gather them again. He let the smaller details of the room and his body drop away, focusing only on John and Mary and what they were all doing to each other. He heard a low buzz as Mary switched on the vibrator held in the harness she wore; her movements stuttered out of sync for a moment before resuming at a faster pace. He ground down onto the dildo to the point where it felt like too much, then rocked up into John, making him gasp. 

It was too much, everything; he couldn't make it last, and didn't want to. "There, Mary. Hold it there," he said, and she did, keeping the dildo in perfect position with one hand while she gripped John's hip with the other. 

Sherlock thrust into John as fast as he could, marveling as always that they had waited so long to do this, that it had taken Mary to bring them together in such an intimate and essential way. "Going," he panted, and left the sentence unfinished in favor of a low-pitched moan that would have embarrassed him if he hadn't heard both of them make the same noise in this bed. 

John's hands moved, one to his own cock, one to Sherlock's chest, raking over his nipple and pinching, hard. That was it, the start, ending—Sherlock curled his fingers into the sheet on either side of the bed and let himself go, making more sounds, not speaking or hearing but feeling and trembling and coming for seconds that felt like they would never end. 

John's fingers went from pinching to caressing, and Mary eased the dildo out, aided by the spasms Sherlock's body still made. It did hurt, now—it was ridiculously large and he would probably be feeling it for hours but he had no regrets. He took a quick inventory of himself, trying to loosen every clenched muscle; it took a few moments before his body would obey.

John crawled forward and off him, leaving a cold, dripping trail, and Sherlock didn't care. He rolled to his side and scooted to the edge of the bed. Mary and John took his place, kissing and groping one another while Mary struggled out of the harness. He would've helped with the buckles but it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. He reached down for the bed sheet and pulled it up, keeping himself warm and sated and drowsy while the two people he loved most in the world continued on next to him, right where they belonged.

**Author's Note:**

> I have lots of other [Johnlockary](http://archiveofourown.org/works?utf8=%E2%9C%93&commit=Sort+and+Filter&work_search%5Bsort_column%5D=kudos_count&work_search%5Brelationship_ids%5D%5B%5D=112649&work_search%5Bother_tag_names%5D=&work_search%5Bquery%5D=&work_search%5Blanguage_id%5D=&work_search%5Bcomplete%5D=0&user_id=MissDavis) if you're interested.


End file.
